We efface an hour by passionate love, without twists, without aftertaste. When it is finished, it is not finished, we lie still… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
But I lie. I embellish. My words are not deep enough. They disguise, they conceal. I will not rest until I have… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Expressing feelings is linked directly with creation... In this ability to tap the sources of feeling and imagination lies the secret of… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will,… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
The true liberation of eroticism lies in accepting the fact that there are a million facets to it, a million forms of… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
The real wonders of life lie in the depths. Exploring the depths for truths is the real wonder which the child and… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
The complaints of the child in us will never cease lamenting until it is consoled, answered, understood. Only then will it lie… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Convalescence. Such an utter weakness that you lie like an animal hibernating, playing possum. You float. You are adrift. Every current is… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I see myself wrapped in lies, which do not seem to penetrate my soul, as if they are not really a part… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Our psychological reality, which lies below the surface, frightens us because it endlessly surprises us and drives us in a direction which… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
“…For love it is never the same. What goes on inside is never the same just like this music which changes every instant. For… — Anaïs Nin Copy Share Image
Jazz is the music of the body. The breath comes through brass. It is the body's breath, and the strings' wails and moans are… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I have so strong a sense of creation, of tomorrow, that I cannot get drunk, knowing I will be less alive, less well, less… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
We don't have a language for the senses. Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds. — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Strange, isn't it, that no chemical will give a human being the iridescence that illusions have given them? Give me your hat. — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
The personal, if it is deep enough, becomes universal, mythical, symbolic. — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Introspection is a devouring monster. You have to feed it with much material, much experience, many people, many places, many loves, many creations, and… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
In each studio there is a human being dressed in the full regalia of his myth fearing to expore a vulnerable opening, spreading not… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I don't mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
“Laughter and tears are not separate experiences, with intervals of rest: they rush out together and it is like walking with a sword between… — Anaïs Nin Copy Share Image
The basis of insincerity is the idealized image we hold of ourselves and wish to impose on others. — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
